


hollow chambers

by HardStansOnly



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, And all that jazz, Anger and acceptance, Angst, Background Relationships, Body Horror, Denial, Depression, Developing Friendships, Eventual Happy Ending, Fungi, Guilt, Hanahaki Disease, Healing, Kissing, M/M, Mark gets the hug he desperately needs, Mentioned NCT Dream Ensemble, Mentioned NCT members - Freeform, Mentions of Blood, Mildly Graphic Sex, Moonbyul is the nurse bc i love her, Near Death Experiences, Non-Graphic Self Harm, Tags to update with fic, The turntable have tabled turned, Time skips bc hospital stays are by in large boring af, Unrequited Love, a series of unfortunate fuckups, bad headspaces for everyone, best intentions and all that, but like its fucked up second cousin, check on your friends, communication? who is she?, compartmentalization gone wrong, fictional diseases, happy ending bc we deserve it, i was gonna wait but we are in quarantine and time doesnt exist, mark gets LAID, near death experiences doesnt mean you get out of using condoms, then we talk about feelings, trigger warning for if you have a phobia of stuff growing on your body, unwanted love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:28:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23125507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HardStansOnly/pseuds/HardStansOnly
Summary: Haechan did not love him and Mark wondered if the flowers growing in his chest would finally go away now.
Relationships: Mark Lee/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas
Comments: 21
Kudos: 194





	1. A Hutch to Trammel

**Author's Note:**

> “But who knows what she spoke to the darkness, alone, in the bitter watches of the night, when all her life seemed shrinking, and the walls of her bower closing in about her, a hutch to trammel some wild thing in?”
> 
> i'm why we can't have nice things - s

On an overly warm Tuesday night Mark had found himself sitting in the loose ring of friends in Haechan’s dorm room. The seven of them passed a bottle of soju between them taking drinks straight from the bottle as they had stayed up far too late for the seven of them considering they had class in the morning. In the center of their circle an empty bottle of beer that Mark couldn't remember the name of spun haphazardly, drops of alcohol flying from the glass opening.

Spin, spin, spin. 

The motions of it were nearly enough to make Mark dizzy in its imitation of a top. Eventually though, the turning slowed to a stop and the open end was blessedly on someone Not Mark. Their game of Truth, Dare, or Drink had slowly dissolved Mark's brain to mouth filter and now he couldn't be trusted to not spill his guts to the room.

“Jeno it's on you!” Jaemin grinned like a cat. Sitting back on his hands Jaemin made Jeno wait until the man squirmed before asking. “Truth or dare?"

Shoulders curled down, a clear sign of his discomfort from all their stares Jeno fiddled with his shoe lace. The younger liked the game even less than Mark, both of them preferring literally any other game than this one. When they had emptied the bottle of beer, Renjun had suggested the game and being outnumbered two to five they had no choice but to agree.

Under his breath Jeno mumbled, “truth.” The room held its breath as Jaemin pondered a question.

Finally, just as Mark was convinced Jaemin would pass, “Do you like me?” Jaemin asked, grin going wider even as Jeno flared bright pink.

Again the room fell to silence. Mark knew the answer, everyone did - more or less. Jeno was terrible at hiding his crush. While the other had guessed, Jeno had told Mark a few weeks prior and Mark had kept his promise of silence. For all the shit his friends gave him about being a goody-two shoes, they all appreciated that he kept their secrets.

Just as the pressure in the room threatened to bust Jeno mumbled out his answer.

“Yes.” The word was barely a breath that ended in Jaemin looking just as flustered.

Trying to take some attention off the two, Mark reached forward to spin the bottle. The slight whistle of the opening covered the scrape of glass on wood until finally, predictably, it landed on Haechan. The last goddamn person he wanted to have to pull some bullshit question out for.

“Truth or dare?” Despite trying to keep his facade when Mark finally asked the words spilled out in a rush.

Haechan puckered his lips, scrunched his eyes and wobbled his head back and forth a bit in thought. Once again the room became uncomfortable, eyes darting to one another. It made Mark want to pull his hair out. 

The six had been acting weird for days now but if there was something wrong no one had told him. Which only fed into his anxiety even more.

The six watched while Haechan flipped the choice around, literally, in his head. Mark nearly chose for him just to get some relief from his nerves when Haechan sat forward.

“Truth.” Mark held his breath to keep in a sigh. He had hoped Haechan would choose dare. Dares were simple. Do a dumb dance, sing a bit of a song, moon someone out the window in the quad. 

Truths hurt, they always hurt.

“Do you love Mark?” Renjun asked after Mark failed to come up with a question in time. Despite the look of apology on Renjun’s face the question made Mark’s heart flutter in his chest.

“Of course not.” The quickness of Haechan’s response killed all the fluttering things in Mark’s stomach. “He’s my best friend so I love him but I don’t, _love love_ him.”

It was a truth that Mark had known. Something that he thought he had made peace with over the last few months. Haechan didn’t love him and Mark thought he could be okay with that but hearing it broke his heart all over again. 

Something small inside broke. It broke more when he smiled like Mark’s whole world wasn’t always in a constant state of collapse. And a final break when Haechan left with Renjun that night.

Haechan did not love him and Mark wondered if the flowers growing in his chest would finally go away now.

***

Mark sometimes wondered why he had moved to Korea to go to the university. It had been one headache after another since he arrived nearly four years ago. His first year was a series of mishaps that nearly drove him back to Canada in sheer frustration. The second year wasn’t any better but by the third he finally felt like he had caught his stride.

“Mark-hyung!” The familiar voice of his best friend blasted in his ear as an arm circled around his neck. “You didn’t call back last night.” Haechan leaned so heavily on him that Mark thought he was going to fall over.

“Wasn’t feeling good.” Twisting a bit to extract himself from Haechan’s hold, Mark adjusted the strap on his backpack. “We got five minutes to get to AP Lit.”

Around them a few students milled. It wouldn't take the whole 5 minutes to get to the classroom -it was barely thirty feet away- but Mark didn't like to be left alone when Haechan was in a mood. The younger could talk the dean into causing chaos and worse, Haechan knew it. 

Mark had a nearly perfect attendance, something that he prided himself. In contrast to Haechan, and most of the students, Mark _liked_ school. He liked learning and picking his teacher's brains about subjects. He might not be a sporty kid but Mark was smart and that was the thing he clinged to when his self-doubt threatened to swallow him whole 

“Let’s skip.” Haechan pulled out his phone showing a text from Renjun. “Unless choir boy Mark-"

Seeing red, Mark cut him off. “I _hate_ it when you call me that.” Mark tried to beat back his anger. It didn’t help that Haechan was wearing a bright red hoodie that belonged to Renjun under his jacket. When Haechan began to whine Mark added, “Some of us are paying to be here Hyuk.”

“Harsh.” A little more subdued Haechan shoved his phone into his back pocket, hands raised in surrender. “Well I’m skipping. Come with us.”

“And be the third wheel? Again. No thanks.” Turning on his heel Mark started to head to the classroom. The scuff-squeak of Haechan dragging his feet behind him echoed in the hallways.

It wasn’t that Mark didn’t appreciate Haechan wanting to hang out, even after he began dating their mutual friend the younger made sure to carve time out for them to chill. It just felt weird to see him holding hands and sneaking kisses with someone else when Mark was in love with him. Mark was happy his friends were in love, it just broke his heart to have it in his face all the time.

“Do you love me Mark?” Haechan’s voice was soft. Under the mop of red-orange hair, Haechan’s eyes watched him curiously.

“No.” It was a familiar enough lie that it sounded natural as it rolled off his tongue. Haechan looked like he wanted to press but Mark waved his hand dismissively. “We have a test today, we should get to class.”

The familiarity of the classroom settled some of Mark’s nerves. The group of pretty girls who were smarter than the rest of them combined, applied layers of gloss to their shiny lips. The jocks that managed to retain some of their brains even after multiple concussions talked about various upcoming events. The few students like him, scholarship, dotted the room in their self contained microcosms trying to keep the grades and keep their spots. Mark noted a few people missing from the class. The loud boy in front who Mark couldn’t remember his face let alone his name, Haechan who had dipped at the door, and one or two others that had spotty attendance at best.

Mark made his way to his preferred desk, far back in the room that he didn’t have to make eye contact with anyone other than the teacher. Pulling out his pencil and pen in preparation for the test Mark used the last few minutes to look over his notes. 

“Sicheng, _please_.” The loud boy from the front of the class voice boomed as he and another student rushed through the door. ‘Sicheng’ rolled his eyes giving an unrepentant look before making his way to his seat. 

“All right class to your seats. We have a test today.” Professor Leeteuk spoke as he approached the desk at the front. “Mr. Lee, where is your friend today?” Mark squirmed a bit but held up his hand, palm up and lips dipped into a guilty frown. “I see.”

Mark tried to fight down the bubble of hot embarrassment that already burned his cheeks. He was so reliable that some professors had expected him to be Haechan’s keeper. When one said that they hoped his good habits would ‘rub off’ on his best friend Mark had wanted to throw himself from the top of the school building. There were plenty of things he had wanted to rub off on Haechan, his good habits being none of them.

The test, like the rest of the day went by in a blur. Mark went through the motions of going to each of his classes but his brain was taken up by the game of spin the bottle. The flippant answer, the nonchalant way his heart was broken into a hundred pieces.

Mark kept trying to tell himself to get over it. Haechan didn’t love him, had never loved him so he should not feel like he’d been hit by a truck. It didn’t seem fair that Mark couldn’t shake the feelings that clung to his ribs like the flowers that had grown there. While he had stopped coughing up petals, Mark had woken up to a whole new problem. A blistering rash on his elbows.

Trudging his way to the cafeteria, Mark clutched his little brown bagged lunch. Another thing that everyone poked at him for like it was still the 5th grade. A quick look around the hall he spotted the table where his friends sat, Yuta already waving him over. The only spot left was a chair that was flanked on both sides by Johnny and his boyfriend Taeyong. While Mark pulled out his food he shimmed out of his hoodie that had become increasingly itchy. Johnny and Taeyong kept a steady stream of conversation across the table though Yuta was only half paying attention to them and half watched the kid Mark recognized as Sicheng from his AP Lit class.

“What’s up with your arms?” Johnny asked, lifting Mark’s elbow to inspect it. Immediately Mark was filled with the need to cover himself back up. “Stress getting to you?”

“It’s nothing.” Mark pulled on his hoodie that he had taken off when he sat down. The soft material itched a bit when it caught but Mark ignored the urge to scratch. “Probably a reaction to soap or something.” Mark watched Johnny and Taeyong exchange a look.

The two were always exchanging looks. Like they had something to say but never actually got around to saying it. At first Mark had told himself he was being paranoid, that he was reading too much into it. And maybe, for a time he was. But with it happening more and more, his anxiety was beginning to rear its ugly head again.

“Sounds like your cough has finally gone away.” Taeyong pressed a cool hand to his forehead. The dancer’s hands were always cold despite how much he moved around. “I’m glad, it was getting bad.” 

Another look exchanged between the two.

“Yeah.” Mark kept his eyes firmly on the bagged lunch in front of him. He hadn’t told the two about the Hanahaki just as he hadn’t told any of his other friends. Mark knew if he told them then it would only be a matter of time before he was dragged to a hospital or worse, they would tell Haechan.

Mark would have sooner choked on the little daisies that had filled up his chest than to have Haechan know.

***

**Day 1**

Mark stood in front of the mirror in his bathroom, stomach sinking in dread. Under the dull light of his shitty bathroom Mark kept staring at his skin hoping that he was dreaming. Mark had rolled out of bed to get ready for class, shirt catching on his arm uncomfortably. At first he thought that it was simply the material brushing against the rash that had bubbled up into blisters in the time it had taken to get from school to his apartment the night before. 

Heart lodged in his throat Mark had found the culprits. At the crook of his elbow three thick stemmed mushrooms had grown from one of the patches of rash.

“Oh no.” Mark touched the black cap with a shaking hand. “No, no, no.” Mark knew what the mushrooms meant with the same soul crushing certainty what the flower petals meant the first time he coughed them up.

The Wasting Sickness. 

The slow rot that started in the soul, then spread out to the rest of the body. The disease killed faster than Hanahaki - it was less beautiful too. Most afflicted with the Wasting died within two weeks of the first mushroom growth. Just a little over two weeks was all he had to live before the mushrooms would cover his body and he would collapse into dust.

Mark had never really thought about dying. He was twenty-three, still a baby in the grand scheme of things, why would he ever put much thought into it. On the few occasions he did think about his own death, it was maybe in an accident or preferrably in his sleep from old age. The Wasting had never been on the list he made in his mind yet he was dying all the same.

All at once it hit Mark. He was _dying._

In a haze of panic Mark dug around his kitchen junk drawer looking for a pair of scissors. He thought maybe if he could cut it off he could stop the spread. That his body would recognize he was a fighter and keep anymore from growing. 

That train of thought would have been hilarious if he wasn’t so desperately scared. Mark had never been a fighter in anything but grades. He let people, even his friends, push him around. He told himself there was no shame in being soft, the world wasn’t made of all fighters and it was okay he used his brain instead of his brawn.

Seated in his bathtub, stale washrag filling his mouth with the taste of old soap as he bit down on the material Mark cut the offending growths off. With each cut he screamed out in pain, blood running down from the serrated skin. The largest of the three took two attempts to cut off, Mark’s hands shaking too hard for a single cut.

Sitting on the stained tile with the shriveled bodies surrounding him Mark cradled his arm to his body as he sobbed from fear and pain.

***

**Day 4**

“Mark?” An elbow hooked itself around Mark’s neck, pain ripping through his body like lightning. “You look _terrible_ even under all your makeup.” Haechan poked at his cheek. 

“Long night.” Mark gritted his teeth as Haechan’s arm brushed against a set of mushrooms whose caps had formed that morning. 

Even without the mushrooms being fully grown, any stimuli to them made Mark’s bones hurt. The thick bodied black mushrooms that had grown over his body first were hungry things. Their roots wove through skin and tissue to anchor directly into bones to siphon off calcium and marrow. 

The clusters grew biggest at the main joints - shoulders, knees, elbows. As the clusters grew the cartilage in his joints weakened, he had found that even simple things like holding a pen were getting harder. Where Mark would take pages worth notes during each of his classes, he had taken only a dozen or so.

Still, no one had really questioned. No one had pushed for answers. It was a relief if Mark was being honest. This way he didn't have to explain himself, didn't have to lie about why he was dying.

“You’ve been off all week.” Haechan pressed closer, hand cupping Mark’s jaw to force him to look over. His friend’s eyes were pensive, the expressive face twisted into a look of concern. “Are you okay? Like, for real Mark. Are you okay?”

“I’d be better if you weren’t hanging on me.” Mark ducked down to untangle himself. Usually he liked the attention, he liked when his friends were clingy or hung off of him. But with how much it hurt to be touched now Mark did his best to not be in group hugs or under pile ups.

Arms at his side Haechan stood a little lost, a heartbroken look now on his pretty features. It didn’t seem fair that Mark was the heartbroken one and yet Haechan stood there looking all the world like the one who was slighted. Mark wanted to stomp his feet and cry that it wasn’t _fair_. Instead he did what he always did, he pushed it down. He shoved all his feelings into a little box in the back of his head even when he could feel that it caused another black capped mushroom to push through a blister head.

Not seeming to process what happened, Haechan stood dumbstruck for a moment. The telltale scuff of his shoes caught up to him and Haechan kept pace next to him. “We’re going out tonight. Wanna come?” In a laughably bad imitation of being nonchalant Haechan pulled out his phone, screen illuminating his face.

Before the question had even been finished he answered, “No.” Absently, Mark pulled at the cuffs of his hoodie so it covered the rash where it had spread to his knuckles. “I’m busy.”

“Doing what?” Haechan snorted disbelievingly. “It’s not like you have friends.” Mark stopped, eyes going wide. It felt like he had been slapped. “That’s. I didn’t mean that.” Haechan’s hands were already rising up. “I’m sorry Mark, I didn’t mean it.”

Yes he did. Mark knew Haechan was right. All of his friends he had made through the younger. Even Johnny was Haechan's friend before he was Mark's. It was why Mark hadn't told anyone that he was sick. Anyone he told would end up spilling his secret to the one person Mark didn't want to know.

“I’m not feeling good.” Mark felt his heart break in his chest for the hundredth time. “Tell Leeteuk I’m going home.” Mark took a few more steps back even as Haechan’s eyes watered. "See you around."

Mark wanted to run away but his body was too worn out after being out only half a day. He had woken up to new clusters of mushrooms that had grown on his shoulders overnight while he slept. A few pebbled along his spine, one particularly painful one rested on his sternum. The one on his chest was different than the others, the head of this one a deep black and the stem thick as a quarter. The one on his chest would come into full bloom when the Wasting finally consumed him.

Catching a lyft back to his apartment Mark lamented not being able to ride his bike anymore. The weather in Seoul was beautiful and he only lived a mile or so from campus in a discounted student apartment. Now his bike sat unused in the front room of his apartment and it hurt to think he’d never get to use it again. Maybe some kid would lift it from the dumpster and get some use out of it, at least then it wouldn't end up in a scrap heap.

Back in his apartment Mark peeled his shirt off, even the soft cotton hurt to wear. As if the mushroom heads weren’t sensitive enough, the blister rash spread farther on his body each day. The bubbled welts had moved and now covered his knees and the tops of his feet. IT seemed that every time he looked in the mirror a new growth or cluster had emerged.

Now that he was a full week into the Wasting, Mark had to accept that he wouldn’t be able to leave his apartment anymore. It hurt to wear anything, it exhausted him too much to go out and pretend he was okay. Now with his body well and truly decaying there was no point.

***  
 **5 days later**

_Johnny: hey you okay?_   
_[Delivered 9:15am]_   
_Johnny: Mark you’ve been MIA for like a week man_   
_[Delivered 9:23am]_   
_Johnny: Answer your phone damn it_   
_[Delivered 2:35pm]_   
_Johnny: Mark? What the hell man. Your mom is worried_   
_Johnny: Mark you’re scaring us_   
_[Delivered 2:58pm]_   
_Johnny: If you don’t answer I’m going to come kick in your door and kick your ass_   
_[Delivered 3:12pm]_

***

_PING!_

Mark barely blinked at the sound of his phone. After nearly a week of silence someone had been texting him every ten minutes. Not that Mark could read them even if he wanted to, and he didn’t want to. 

If it had taken someone this long to get worried what was even the point? Mark had always been one to answer texts or calls promptly, he never left people on read for longer than a few hours. Everyone always joked he was always too much ‘good kid’ like that but now that Mark had stopped no one seemed to have blinked an eye. Even his best friend hadn't checked in with him. No one wanted him, no one cared.

_PING!_

Another text which would be followed by a call.

_Bzzt bzzt bzzt bzzt._

The pattern that had been created in the last few hours was as predictable now as the spider that would be crawling along the ceiling by sunset. 

Even if Mark could dredge up enough curiosity to see who finally cared enough to call, his phone pinged uselessly out of his reach. The thin black box sat on the window sill at the head of his bed, plugged in where he had left it two days ago.

Mark had meant to grab it when he laid down the night before but the Wasting finally cemented his joints too much to move comfortably. Whoever was blowing up his phone would come or they wouldn’t. Eventually the landlord would get annoyed when his rent was late and find a pile of dust left behind where he once was.

_PING!_

“Stup-d.” Mark managed to unglue his chapped lips and mutter at how his phone kept going off. “Jus st’p.” It was too late for anyone to help him even if they suddenly care. 

As always, his thoughts turned to Haechan. Mark's thoughts always turned to Haechan. If there was ever a spare moment the Korean boy filled Mark's brain. 

Was it too much to want Haechan to love him? 

Probably. Haechan was in love with someone else and that was _okay_. Even if it turned his body to dust, as long as Haechan was happy. 

Mark just wanted Haechan to be happy.

_PING!_

“Pl’se. Stop.”

While he laid in bed during the first night of his seclusion Mark had called a therapist hotline set up for people who contracted Hanahaki and Wasting. Mark had spent nearly two hours talking with a woman whose name he didn’t remember about his situation. She had given him all the platitudes, well meaning but overused. 

To her credit, it had been enough to halt the disease for a few days, even the spots had gone down to resemble a rash more than blisters. Mark called the hotline every day for three days each day a new therapist to try and stop the spread. Mark thought he had succeeded in pushing back against the disease. At least, until the mushrooms began to pop up along his skin. Little clusters of capped heads sprouting up from the spots that seemed to return overnight. 

Unsurprisingly everyone believed him when Mark said he was fine. No one ever thought he was capable of lying, at least not a lie as big as this. Goody-two shoes Mark. Church boy Mark. Annoyingly puritanical Mark. He guessed the joke would be on everyone, including him, when it got out what happened. If anyone cared. He had been dying and no one seemed to notice. He had stopped leaving his apartment and no one came to check on him.

_PING! PING! PING! PING! PING! PING!_

_Bzzzt. Bzzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt bzzt bzzt._

_PING! PING! PING! PING!_

“Go away.”

Mark watched the notifications pop up in the reflection of the window. If he squinted his eyes he could almost make out a name. He knew it was likely Johnny, the upperclassmen had taken Mark under his wing when he first arrived at the university. Since they were both from North America everyone joked they were as good as brothers, and over the two years they had known each other they had grown as close as ones. Mark couldn’t fault Johnny for not noticing he was sick, the older had his own relationship to tend to and with Taeyong leaving the country for six months on a dance tour Mark had pushed for Johnny to spend his free time with Taeyong.

A spike of guilt shot up at the realization that if Johnny was blowing up his phone now then Mark must have missed Taeyong leaving. Mark had promised he would go to the airport to see him off.

_Damn it._

Mark attempted to shuffle himself towards the phone, Taeyong deserved a goodbye text at least. The dancer was probably heartbroken that Mark had stood him up at the airport after all the promises he would be there. Even if Johnny came in now with Mark covered in fungi the American would likely kick his ass on principal.

_PING! PING! PING!_

Mark fought against the grinding of his bones but he couldn’t make his limbs move. Managing to lift his head he frowned at the influx of mushrooms that had grown while he laid in bed. Now red caps sprinkled with white dots grew within the clusters of black headed mushrooms. 

The red mushrooms were the sign of the final stage of Wasting, or so Mark had read while he was still able to move. The thin stemmed red mushrooms fed slowly on the congealing blood, the enzymes in it would end up taking them from a shiny red to a deep burgundy within hours. 

When Mark had finally given up trying to cut them off, the pain too much to bear, the mushrooms pebbled up along a few ribs, the knuckles of his hands. The only place they didn’t grow was his face, not yet. They would eventually make their way up if he lasted the sickness long enough, though most died before the mushrooms ever made it that far.

If he still had the strength Mark would have dragged himself to the bathroom like he had done so many times at the start of this. Mark hoped when they inevitably found what was left of him that they would see the shriveled bodies in the trash can of the bathroom and know that he had tried. That he had fought back in some small way against his fate.

Mark knew even if he did miraculously survive, the places on his body where he had cut the mushrooms off now held serrated scars. Some of the stems shriveled down leaving small indents, some healed over thick and raised, and some of them simply regrew into new mushrooms despite his best effort. No matter how he tried, Mark found he was fighting a losing battle.

_PING! PING! P-P-P-PING!_

Mark could have (should have) gone to the doctor when he had first noticed the symptoms appearing. Even a single mushroom head would have been enough to have him admitted into the ward where Wasters got put. 

The Wasting Sickness wasn’t easily curable but they could have tried a few treatments. Therapy, surgery to remove the mushrooms, and if nothing else give him something to ease the pain of it. There were dozens of experimental surgeries and medicines that the world governments had been working on for the last sixty or so years to save those with the disease. Because it was an affliction of the soul and not just the heart, the Wasting wasn’t as easily dealt with as Hanahaki. No cutting to remove the offending flowers, no suction vacuum to collect stray petals. Just rot, and fungi before a sad, _pitiful_ end.

Pitiful like his unspoken love. How the word Love was always stuck between his back teeth or caged in the ballooned out canvas of chewing gum before the sudden and violent **pop**. It wasn’t enough that it was unrequited love, it was _unwanted_. The rejection had turned the little flower buds in Mark’s lungs to dust and planting the seeds of the mushrooms in his bones.

For the millionth time Mark reminded himself that Haechan had never been interested in him. They had been friends since he had moved from Canada to attend the university. Despite the younger’s brattiness and penchant for picking a fight, Mark found himself - like so many others - drawn to the boy. It was impossible to not love the dancer. 

_It's not your fault Hyuk._   
_It's not your fault Hyuk._   
_It's not your fault Hyuk._

The words echoed like a mantra in his head. Maybe if he thought them hard enough they'd be telepathically sent to Haechan.

Staring at the same spot in the ceiling Mark wondered what they would put on his urn when they found him. Providing anyone actually took time to funnel the dust he’d become off the duvet and into a plastic bag. Maybe they’d send him back to his parents in Canada. 

Maybe they’d throw the blanket over the side of the balcony and shake it out, pretending like he had never existed at all.

***

“~~~~” Mark realized someone was talking but the words didn’t make it past the film on his brain. “~~~~RK!” Warm hands on his cold skin were blistering.

“~~~~” A second person? “~~ase. ~~ark please.”

Mark tried to open his eyes but the lids felt too heavy. Couldn’t they have waited a few more hours? He was already content to slip away, to crumble to dust.

Mark felt as if waves were washing over him, a twisted sense of peace floating him away. The sludge in his veins now too vicious to make the sound of the sea but Mark could hear it all the same. The dull roar, the sound of birds flying over head. 

On some beach far, far away Mark watched Haechan disappear over the sandy horizon forever out of reach so he simply sank beneath the waves.


	2. Between the Ribs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Healing is always a painful process for all of the involved parties.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied there are gonna be 3 chaps bc i'm god and i said so - s

Chap 2 - Between the Ribs

AN: imma launch myself into the sun - s

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._

The metronome steadiness of the mechanic beeps made Mark shift uncomfortably trying to get away from them. With each beep his head throbbed painfully, the pain radiating from behind his eyes into the very center of his brain. They could have been shotgun blasts for as loud as they echoed in the small room. It didn’t seem fair that the afterlife was this annoying when the last few years of his life had been so bleak. Maybe, it was punishment. Hellfire and damnation and all the stuff he’d been taught.

**

“~~ and what else?” Mark came awake again slowly to the quiet mumblings of a deep voice. “Your mom is coming to visit soon. She’s been worried about you. She’s taken this pretty hard.” Mark searched his foggy memories for the owner of that voice.

Johnny. Some part of his tired brain supplied. Why was Johnny here? Did he waste too? 

“We’re all scared Mark. You stopped coming out, stopped answering.” Johnny’s voice clogged with tears Mark couldn’t see but could hear. The hand holding his tightened, the warmth still finding his skin through the bandages that were layered on him. “You should have told us you were sick” Mark hated himself for how broken his friend sounded. “I’m sorry. We should have realized that something was wrong. Why didn’t you let me help you?” 

Not for the first time Mark realized that it wasn’t just him that was hurting. He had always known there were those who were going to take his passing hard. Still, it hurt to hear Johnny crying and know that he was the cause of it. Death never really affected the dead, it was always the living that suffered. He had spent hours thinking about his funeral while he had laid in bed, body unable to move. He thought about what his mom would say, his teachers. Maybe Haechan giving a teary speech about his best friend who wasn’t good enough to love Like That.

Worse, a speech about Haechan actually loving him and being too afraid to say it.

***

**Week 1**

“Mr. Lee, I know you’re awake.” Mark’s lips dipped into a grimace. He had been hoping that they would all just leave him alone but the nurses had been poking at him for a bit to get a reaction.. Slowly he opened his eyes to look at the nurse standing at the foot of his bed. The woman looked him over, the deep purple of her scrubs matching the purple highlights in her braided hair. The tag on her shirt read **Moonbyul** , “How are you feeling?”

“B-” Mark winced at his voice cracking. “B-AH-d."

“Understandable.” The nurse fussed around him, fingers pressing machine buttons. “You have been here for three days. You nearly died.” Mark couldn’t quite form the look he wanted, all of his functions seemed to still be shutting down. Once she finished checking vitals Moonbyul placed a straw to his lips. “Drink.” Weakly Mark pulled until cool water washed over his tongue. “You’ll be happy, perhaps, to know that the growths have stopped.” 

Even the act of drinking water made Mark tired but Moonbyul sat in with him for a while in companionable silence. The nurse didn’t force him to talk but she did make him drink most of the water from the styrofoam cup. At her insistence, and the demand of his stomach, Mark attempted to eat some of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich but it was too heavy so instead he nibbled on the pudding cup.

“We’ll be bringing you bottles of _Ensure_ to supplement your meals until you can eat solid foods again.” Moonbyul began to check his vitals again. “Your case worker will be coming in, probably tomorrow morning. They’ll introduce you to your therapist.” Mark curled in on himself a little. He didn’t want to talk about this with anyone, he just wanted to disappear. “Hey. Don’t give up on yourself okay? I promise you, no matter what, the people who love you will be devastated if you die.” 

When the nurse finally left Mark was exhausted. He had barely done anything, barely been awake two hours and all Mark wanted was to go back to sleep. Picking at the bowl of pudding trying to will himself to eat more, Mark wondered maybe if he slipped deep enough he c-

“Mark?” Johnny’s voice made his heart sink even though he knew. “Oh my _god_.” At the side of his bed Johnny crumpled, face pressed into his hands to muffle his sobs. “You’re alive. You’re _alive_.”

For as big as a man as Johnny was it seemed absurd how little space he took up on the floor. The long limbs pulled tightly to himself, face obscured by large hands and soft black hair. The broad shoulders that had held Mark while he cried on more occasions than he could count shook with the force of his grief. Or was it relief? Did Mark even get to call them friends after this?

Mark wanted to reach out, to comfort in some way. Johnny was in pain because of him, and had been in pain because of him. It brought a new wave of loathing that Mark wasn’t sure he could reach anymore. It had been so long since he had felt anything but longing, since his heart did anything but try to cave in on itself. 

From the hallway a second person entered. “Johnny? Hey are you ok-” The sound of Haechan’s voice made Mark want to die all over again. He wished as hard as he could that he would simply turn to the dust he was supposed to be by now. If they had found him then there was no way Haechan didn’t know. No way that they could keep pretending.

Not them. _Him_. This was caused because of _him_ , not Haechan.

Haechan didn’t owe him shit, least of all love. Haechan had never pretended they were anything but what they were: friends. Best friends. It was on Mark alone that the Wasting had taken a hold of him. Mark wasn’t about to let anyone, least of all Haechan, blame Haechan for this.

Unable to do much else, Mark watched Haechan devolve into tears next to Johnny. The usually bright and sunny face pulled into a grimace, eyes wet where tears fell unchecked down his cheeks. Off to the side Mark could see Renjun at the door looking just as stricken as the other two but obviously trying to be strong for his boyfriend.

Weakly, Mark waved. “Hey.”

“Don’t.” Haechan hiccuped, suddenly angry despite the tears streaming down his face. “Don’t y-you just ‘hey’ me.” Haechan stomped his foot, voice raising. “You don’t get to just say _HEY_.” The raised voice made nurse Moonbyul pop her head in, eyes narrowed in warning. Mark was in the Wasting Ward, a place of grieving and acceptance, outbursts were not allowed. “You nearly died. How could you not tell us you were sick?” Mark scrounged for words but his brain felt like lead. “Wasting Sickness. It wasn’t like you didn’t know you were sick.”

“S-rry.” Mark spoke softly. He was already so tired and the guilt that was crawling up from his gut made him want to disappear. If he went to sleep would they think he was dying again?

Was he dying again?

“You better be sorry you _asshole_.” Haechan came over to cup his face and pressed their foreheads together. “You are the worst best friend ever do you know that?” Mark blinked away tears, eyes cast down. “Do you know how worried we’ve been? H-”

“I love you.” Mark forced out despite his throat not wanting to work. He needed to say it, just once. 

Mark felt if he could speak it into the world maybe he could get it out of his heart, push it so far away that he wouldn’t feel it anymore. Instead of lightness, the weight it carried into the room nearly crushed all of them.

“But...you said...” Haechan’s hands left his face as he backed up. Mark wondered what thoughts were churning behind the tearful eyes. “You said you didn’t...” Mark dropped his eyes to the white hospital blanket. “I-”

“I’m sorry.” Mark felt the tears finally spill over.

Mark didn’t watch Haechan run from the room. Didn’t watch Renjun stare at him just as heartbroken before following Haechan, or how Johnny looked up as if he had known. Instead Mark laid back down, eyes closed and tried to convince himself this was better. Haechan hating him was better. Johnny being angry was better. They would never want to see him again, speak to him, and Mark could just dissolve away with the barest amount of guilt.

Only, like every other part of his life, _that_ didn’t go as planned either. Instead of crumbling to dust Mark seemed to be getting stronger. Something in his body had begun to fight back against the Wasting even if Mark’s heart was still broken.

***

**Week 6**

Mark didn’t bother to count the days he was in the hospital. Didn’t count the cocktail of pills they gave him or the amount of times a day they took him down for physical therapy to make his body usable again. The mushrooms still bloomed occasionally on his bad days, but whatever the doctors injected into them made the growths wilt and fall off like warts. 

Part of the reason Mark didn’t bother to count anything was because when Mark finally acclimated himself to the schedule the hospital changed it up again. Too much repetition made it easy to fall back into bad habits. The other part just didn’t have the wherewithal to care.

“Mr. Lee.” The familiar voice of his therapist drew Mark’s eyes from where a fat bird sat on the window sill on the opposite side of the glass. “How are you feeling today?”

“Sad. Heavy.” Mark tried to smile at the woman. Doctor Yang stood barely taller than him, face lined with age and more grey in her hair than black. Still, she was kind to him when they talked. She never made Mark feel foolish for ‘letting this happen’ to himself. “I miss everyone.”

“That’s natural.” Doctor Yang pulled out her notebook. The pages of the thin book were filling slowly with what Mark assumed were notes on his progress. “I see you’re rejecting visitors now.”

“Yeah.” Mark shifted to sit cross-legged on the bed. The battery of vitamins, steroids, and bone grafts had reversed the worst of the damage but he would never be as strong as he used to. “They don’t really want to see me anyway.” 

Haechan didn’t return after the first visit, not that Mark had ever expected him to. Twice their other friends had come to visit though it had been awkward, stilted. All of them had stared at the floor, or the wall, or the window - anywhere but each other really. The five were relieved when Moonbyul had come in to check his vitals and used it as an excuse to leave.

“Why do you think that?” Doctor Yang watched him fidget.

“You know what they used to call me?” Mark let some of the bitterness seep out. “Choir Boy Mark. or Goody Two Shoes.” Picking at the shorts he was allowed to wear now, Mark tried not to look at the gnarled mass of scar tissue on his knees. “I hated it. I hated that they made fun of me for not wanting to be in trouble all the time.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“I thought it would go away.” Mark dug a finger into the scar mass until the nerve endings ached. “Then it got worse. No one asked why I was suddenly wearing makeup and painting my nails. They didn’t ask when I started skipping class.”

Doctor Yang wrote a few more notes then tilted her head. “Do you think they were scared to ask?” Mark snorted. “Sometimes we see things but are scared to ask and wait for the person to reach out.”

Mark bit his tongue. He i>knew his friends cared about him. It wasn’t fair to put the blame solely on them. “I got Hanahaki and didn’t say anything. I got Wasting and didn’t say anything. I’m not mad that they don’t want to visit now, I’m mad that they used to make fun of me for having perfect attendance but when I didn’t show up for a week no one noticed.”

Mark really and truly didn’t blame others for not wanting to be around him after the bomb he had dropped. Mark had spent three years insistent that he wasn’t in love with Haechan and then he nearly fucking died from Wasting Sickness. Mark didn’t think it would ever be fixed, and no small part of him thought he deserved it. When they had come up, it was as if everyone didn’t know him anymore. The conversations were like walking on eggshells until finally Mark decided to put a stop to it. Now they wouldn't have to worry about trying to make conversation or. Pretend there wasn't an elephant in the room the size of a tombstone.

Next to the bed Doctor Yang arched a disbelieving eyebrow. “But they still came to the front desk this morning.”

“Johnny wanted to stop by.” Mark wondered if it was from disappointment or maybe disgust that Johnny didn’t speak to him during their visits. Mark didn’t know where to begin to bridge the gap between them. “I had them turn him away. Same with my mom.” 

“Your mom too?” The pen stilled a moment.

“Everyone is angry and hurt.” The tears burned where they gathered in his eyes. “I wanted someone to hold me and tell me it was okay. That they still loved me but...” Mark ground his teeth trying to keep his heart from breaking again. “But.They keep acting as if this was something that I had pre-planned to get attention or some kind of botched suicide attempt.” Mark silently accepted the fat stuffed walrus that Moonbyul had given him for making it 6 weeks without a relapse. Holding it tightly to his chest Mark let himself cry.

Mark understood why they felt that way but after every visit Mark was left feeling worse instead of better. Truthfully, the growing estrangement had been the straw to break the camel's back. Mark couldn’t bear the silence of Johnny’s visits or the disappointment in his friends anymore. Even if he did deserve it, they all got to leave and go home while he was stuck in the room with no one to distract him from the voices in his head.

“Do you think it helps to push them away?” The pen in Doctor Yang’s hand began to move again. “Do you think if you push everyone away it won’t matter that you are here? Or why you are here?”

Face shoved into the soft stuffie’s body Mark shrugged one shoulder. They had been at this since the day Mark had woken up. Like Hanahaki, the only true way to get rid of the sickness was to be rid of the feelings. Or at least come to the point where the feelings weren’t all consuming. 

It hadn’t mattered in the two years before that Haechan didn’t love it, the problem was when Mark had taken that rejection and entrenched it in his soul. All his waking time was spent thinking about it, all his fantasies were how at any moment Haechan would come in and say it was a mistake. That he was the one Haechan wanted to be with. Mark would have even been okay with being polyamorous and being in some form of relationship with Renjun. But it wasn’t what Haechan wanted and Mark had been too selfish to accept it.

“This is my fault.” Mark watched her pen still. “I wouldn’t, couldn’t, accept that Haechan didn’t want me.” The pen began to move again. “I thought I was okay with it.” Mark began to twist the blanket between his fingers. “I was happy when he and Renjun got together.”

“Happy?” Doctor Yang asked quietly.

“I wasn’t jealous.” Mark met the dark eyes, tears still falling. “I was...resigned. Then I hated myself for not being able to be happy for them.” Doctor Yang’s lips tipped into the smallest of smiles. It was the breakthrough he had been denying himself since the start of this. “I…” Mark bit his bottom lip when his vision became muddled with tears. “He didn’t love me back.” The thick tears hurt but not as much as finally accepting the reality of it. “He doesn’t love me.”

***

**Week 8**

Mark found himself moved off the ward and into the rehab section two floors down from the ward. Since the Wasting could not be as clearly tracked as Hanahaki he was still being heavily monitored in the recovery ward. Mark still saw Doctor Yang twice a week but the mushrooms no longer grew on his skin, the rash and blisters disappearing like they had never been there. Mark would have to live with the scars, the dents in his skin and now weak immune system but he had turned a corner that only one in sixty did with late stage Wasting.

Healing was painful. More painful than when he got a note from Haechan the first week after waking up saying that he needed some time away. Mark sincerely doubted he’d ever see his best friend again and if he did it wouldn’t be the same. Haechan would always try to shoulder some form of guilt even though Mark did not blame him. Mark had written out a three page apology to his best friend, begging him not to take on the guilt of this. Mark apologized in every way he knew how. When he passed it to Johnny it was one of the rare times the older actually talked to him and it was only the few words it took to promise to deliver.

To combat his loneliness Mark began to take workshops and classes in the rehab facility. Painting, poetry, knitting. Anything and everything he could sign up for to keep his mind busy and away from the endless ‘what if’ paths that he had a tendency to travel. Too much idle time could put him back into the Wasting and undo all the progress he had made. Between the physical therapy, actual therapy, and the workshops, Mark was so exhausted at night he slept until the nurse would bring breakfast.

“You must be Mark.” Looking up from his billionth poem about letting go Mark found himself staring into big brown eyes. “I’m Lucas.” 

“Hi.” Mark tried to make his face form into a smile. It was an expression he wasn’t used to wearing anymore. Usually he reserved the smiles he could form for the nurses who despite his habit of being a grump always tried to make him laugh during vital checks. “Can I help you?”

“Maybe.” It took longer than Mark wanted to admit to notice just how big Lucas was. Like Johnny, he was tall and broad as a house but impossibly kind eyes. He also had a set of lips Mark couldn’t help but think about kissing. “Can I sit with you?” Mark nodded a yes.

Lucas sat across from him, book in hand, and Mark couldn’t shake the feeling that he somehow knew him. They sat in silence, Mark waiting patiently while Lucas fiddled with the edge of his soft blue sweater. The man tried several times to say something, eyes going between the book that now sat on the table and Mark.

Back and forth. Back and forth.

The motions of Lucas’ eyes were making Mark dizzy and he wondered if Lucas would be able to walk a straight line.

Unable to handle the endless stretch of silence, Mark leaned forward. “Wasting or Hanahaki?” Mark knew the staff frowned upon asking other patients outright. It made some patients skittish, mostly those who still had not come to terms with the situation. Pushing up a sleeve to the elbow Mark showed a few of the pale round scars. 

Once he had been able to wear his own clothes Mark returned to long sleeves. He preferred the shirts with thumbholes in the cuffs since they covered his knuckles. The scars were a mix of lumpy masses from when he had removed the mushrooms himself and flat shiny skin where the doctors surgically removed the dense clusters. “I had Wasting.”

The soft eyes took in the battle field lining his arm and hand but there was no judgement in Lucas’ eyes. The silence between them reminded Mark of the silence between him and Johnny. Long, weighted but unlike the ones with Johnny it was not wholly uncomfortable. 

Tugging his sleeve down, Mark didn’t press for conversation. Instead he returned to the chicken scratch of a poem that was a different version of the same thing he’d been writing for weeks now. He’d written line after line, metaphor upon metaphor. Nothing made the pain stop. Nothing made it easier, but at least when he wrote it down the feelings were on paper instead of rolling around his head.

“Do you miss it?” Lucas’ voice was quiet when he finally spoke again. In his distraction Mark missed Lucas fiddling with the thin poetry book on the table.

“Miss what?”

“Loving him.” Mark watched the long fingers open the book to lift a flower from it’s pages. 

The soft pink peony looked more delicate than a butterfly wing in Lucas’ careful hold. Was it one of the flowers that had grown in the man’s lungs? Was it some kind of morbid reminder that love was the most destructive thing that could happen to a person?

Still, it begged the question: _did_ he miss loving Haechan? 

When was the last time he had actually _thought_ about it? It seemed so long and yet as if no time had passed at all.

“No, I don’t miss it.” Watching the long fingers trace the flower, Mark forced himself to not lie. If Lucas was someone who was also on the ward it would only hurt the both of them. “I don’t miss sitting for hours wondering how I could be better. Or how I could change to make myself more appealing.” Mark reread his poem again then met Lucas’ eyes. “Do you?"

Another minute of silence stretched between them. Mark alternated between watching Lucas touch the flower and watching Lucas watch him. 

Softly, as if he didn't want the words to come out Lucas spoke. “This grew for you.” 

Mark didn’t think he could feel sicker than the day the first mushroom had grown, but the flower made him feel infinitely worse. Stomach dropping to somewhere in the hospital’s sub-levels, Mark dug around his brain trying to place where Lucas would have ever crossed paths with him. Lucas didn’t seem like someone people wouldn’t NOT notice. 

Coffee shop? Library? Bus stop? All drawing blanks.

At Mark’s silence, something sad passed through Lucas' eyes. “AP Lit. You always sit in the back of the class, big round glasses and messy hair.”

On instinct Mark stammered out something that was a garble of Korean and English. The sounds mixing like oil and water but not forming a single coherent word. He felt dizzy, worse. He felt guilty. Why was Lucas telling this? Was this a sick joke his friends had put together to punish him?

“I don’t blame you for not noticing me.” Lucas smiled a little sadly sitting back in his chair. “It was clear to everyone how much you loved your friend.” The smile wobbled just a little. Mark didn’t want to dwell on that. If a whole stranger knew then who else did? Maybe he was just a better liar than everyone said he was. “Well to everyone but your friend.”

“Lucas I don’t think we ever actually met.” Mark tried to think past the days lost to the Wasting before he had stopped going out. “Ar-”

“It seemed pointless to introduce myself. Sicheng threatened to, and Yuta.” Lucas placed the flower between them. “But you wouldn’t have noticed me even if I did.” Mark hated himself that Lucas was right. The only person he could think of that would be Lucas in his AP Lit class was ‘the loud boy in front’.

“I’m sorry.” Mark could feel himself shaking, stomach trying to keep itself from upending at the implications.

Was this how Haechan felt? The sheer _guilt_ threatened to swallow him whole. Mark didn’t even _know_ Lucas but somehow he had nearly killed him. 

“When I came out of surgery I asked to keep one of the intact blooms.” Lucas smiled a little bitterly. “I wanted...I don’t know really. Something to show for all the heartache.” Mark’s eyes stayed trained on the pink petals. “I debated a long time about telling you.”

“I’m sorry.” Mark wasn’t sure what he could have done to help Lucas but if he had known he would have tried. 

Was that how Johnny felt? Knowing that someone was hurting and not being able to do anything about it? Maybe the silence of their visits was because Johnny was upset with _himself_ and Mark had been too caught up in his own pain to really think about anyone else's.

“Don’t apologize.” Lucas pulled the flower pack to place it within the pages of the book. “How could you have known? I didn’t tell you. I didn’t even talk to you.” Across the little table Lucas reached over taking Mark’s hand in his large one. “You need to forgive yourself Mark.”

“You don’t know wh-”

“I’ve been watching you beat yourself up for weeks.” Lucas’ smile stretched a little wider despite Mark having a whole other panic about somehow not noticing the man in the workshops. “You’ve paid whatever penance you think you deserve but you can’t heal if you don’t face it.” Mark felt the burn of tears as his eyes filled. “I’m leaving tomorrow. My body has healed enough that I can go home.” 

Mark tried to think of something to say. Some kind of congratulations for no longer needing to be on the recovery ward but he couldn't find the words.

"Can I come visit you?" The question sent Mark reeling all over again. Lucas smiled but waited for him to respond.

"W-why?" Mark managed to stammer out. It was absurd that Lucas would want to come back to visit him. Lucas had to have flowers carved out of his fucking lungs because of him and Mark hadn’t even known his name until today. "Why would you want to?"

Lucas leaned a little across the table. "I want to be your friend." One large, warm hand wrapped around his. “Please.”

"I don't love you. I don't know if I could." Mark couldn't stop the words from tumbling out.

"I don't expect you to." Lucas smiled, hand tightening around his. "I wanted to be your friend at the start of the semester but I could never find you outside of class."

"This...this is-"

"Fucked up?" Mark nodded yes. Lucas looked over to where a few of the staff were watching them critically, one with a heavily disapproving frown. "I know. Doctor Wei doesn't think it's healthy for me to be friends with you. Risk of the Hanahaki coming back."

Mark waited a few moments. When no answer came he pressed, "But?"

Lucas smiled again, this time brightly. "You're worth the risk."

The hand wrapped around his tightened again. Mark chalked it up to being touched starved for so long that he liked the feeling of his hand in Lucas' larger one. In their silence Lucas' thumb brushed gently against Mark's knuckles, the digit not shying away from the raised skin. The last time anyone had held his hand seemed a lifetime ago.

Quietly, Mark whispered. "You don't know me. You can't know that." Mark’s eyes were drawn back to the preserved flower. A reminder that he was the reason Lucas had been sick in the first place. “I’m not a good person.”

"Yes you are.” Lucas spoke firmly, thumb pausing only for a moment. “I know you're smart. And kind." Lucas' smile turned a little softer. "I know when you got sick you tried to pretend you weren't. I know from your poetry readings you don't blame your friend for not loving you." Mark thought he'd melt under Lucas' words. It had been so long since someone other than Doctor Yang told him he wasn't a fuck up. "Can I come visit you Mark?"

Mark knew he should say no. Cut off ties with the man and let him go find someone who deserved his kindness. Someone who didn’t nearly destroy him, even unintentionally. 

_You need to forgive yourself Mark._ Lucas’ words traveled around his brain in time with Doctor Yang’s. 

_Do you think if you push everyone away it won’t matter that you are here?_

It was clear Mark wouldn’t be able to dig himself out of his self made grave but maybe he could if he stopped shutting everyone out."Yeah. Sure." The smile he was rewarded with could have lit the whole room.

**

Mark figured that Lucas would maybe come back sometime during the week, or the week after. But the man was there the next morning at 8AM right as the visiting hours started, backpack over his shoulder and a bike helmet tucked under his arm. At the table Mark blue screened a moment, where Lucas had been in a soft blue sweater barely 24 hours ago he was now in a leather jacket and leather pants.

“I’m in hell.” Moonbyul who had come down from the ward to check on him had the audacity to laugh. “I died and I’m in hell.”

“Well if you don’t want him I’ll take him.” Moonbyul grinned, shooting him a wink.

“You don’t even like boys.” Mark watched Lucas turn over the jacket and helmet to the desk to be put up.

“I’d make an exception for him.” Lucas was crossing the room and something that felt horrifyingly like butterflies filled his stomach.

Trying to look like he hadn’t been staring -even though Lucas had caught him openly staring- Mark turned to his doodle pad. Moonbyul, as if to spite him, did not move until Lucas sat down at the table. He about melted in embarrassment when she elbowed him with a Very Meaningful expression and then left.

“Hey.” Mark squirmed a little trying to keep up the air of nonchalance. Which he failed but Lucas was kind enough to not say anything.

“Hi.” Lucas smiled and then blushed when he realized they were both staring. “So uh, it's nice out today. Want to go for a walk?”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded quickly. He was so unused to human interactions that he remained seated even as Lucas stood waiting.

“If you don't want to we can sta-”

“No, no, no. Sorry.” Mark tried to make his brain function correctly. After another moment he stood, knees cracking a bit. “My body doesn’t always move when I tell it.” Lucas nodded in understanding, a smile returning to his lips. “Lead the way.”

**

**Week 9**

"Mr. Lee, you have visitors. Would you like to see them?" The nurse from the front desk asked quietly.

"Them?" Mark frowned in confusion. He had lifted the ban to allow Lucas to come visit but he was back in school. It would be hours before the man would be by and Mark hadn't told anyone else about lifting it. "Uh. Yeah. Okay."

"I'll send them in." Mark watched the nurse slip back through the double doors.

Sitting at the plastic table Mark gathered up his papers. No one needed to see his shitty poetry, well not shitty anymore. After weeks of practice Mark liked to think it had gotten better, a little more hopeful too. Lucas visiting did wonders for his mental state as well as reminded him to be kinder to himself. Having a friend that didn’t judge him, even when he should be judged, made it difficult to be hard on himself. Anytime he started to fall back Lucas was there with soft smiles and kind words.

As Mark finally started to crawl out of the darkness the last remaining mushroom, the one that rested above his heart and anchored into his chest had wilted enough that the doctors were able to remove it. Mark had seen the x-rays from before it was removed. The clear paths the roots had taken as it fed off his ribcage, as well as the roots that were growing towards his heart. Unlike Lucas, he opted to have the mushroom sent off to some lab so that it could be tested. Maybe one day it would help with finding a treatment for others and some good could come from his suffering.

With his papers piled neatly on top of one another, writing faced down Mark tried very hard to keep his heart from pounding out of his chest like a bad cartoon. Who would even know to come visit? Everyone had given up on him - partly from his own doing. No one had texted his phone in days, not even his parents who were admittedly still dealing with their guilt from their initial reaction.

The scuff-squeak of converse on linoleum gave away the identity of his visitors before he even saw them. It was a sound he knew as well as his own heartbeat.

Mark folded his arms on the table, forehead coming to rest as he tried to breath past the panic. The sound of shoes scuffing as they dragged was as familiar as the rustle of a too large hoodie that was next to it. Honestly Mark should have known it would be Haechan and Johnny but knowing didn’t slow his heart.

"Hey." The sound of Haechan's voice made every nerve ending in his body come to life. He wasn't ready; he couldn't do this but he lifted his head up anyway.

Mark kept his eyes firmly on the paper even as the chairs scraped against the linoleum floor. The table seemed too small now that Haechan and Johnny sat at the otherside of it. Haechan looked terrible, there were dark circles under his eyes and cheekbones too prominent. Next to him Johnny didn’t look much better, haughtier maybe but still one stiff wind away from being blown over. Mark knew that this was his fault too. Would it have been better if he had just turned to dust?

No. Even if he died they would still be sad, they would still blame themselves for not knowing. Mark hadn’t met Lucas before the day he came to talk in the rehab hall but he still felt guilty for the man getting sick. The thick syrupy burn of shame flooded his body for knowing he was the cause of all this suffering.

"First you get sick then you don't accept visitors." Johnny sounded just as annoyed as the last time. "Kinda shitty." Something in Mark snapped, only this time it was anger instead of self loathing.

Mark took a breath, counted to three. Took another, counted to ten. Took a third and tried to ignore how his knee had begun to bounce anxiously. Around his wrist the little braided bracelet Lucas had given him the day before was a comforting weight. It was barely more than a few strands of yarn woven together, likely during one of the workshops but it gave Mark something to hold onto when the darkness got too much.

On the fourth breath Mark sat up straight, chin raised. "I'm not apologizing anymore." Mark looked between the two of them trying to keep his resolve. Mark knew both sides of this coin but he also knew that it didn’t take away from their hurt. They would forgive him or they wouldn't. Johnny’s pinched expression Mark had to gather up what strands of self forgiveness he had fought for. “This was an accident, not something out of revenge or to get attention or pity.” Mark spoke the words as slow and intentional as he had practiced them during his hours and hours of therapy. They didn’t have to forgive him but he had to forgive himself otherwise it would swallow him whole. "I have apologized enough."

Shifting in his seat Haechan met his eyes, "Mark -"

"No. I get it." Mark crushed the paper between his fingers. Mark tightened his grip enough that his knuckles that had nearly eroded away began to crack dangerously. Forcing his fingers to loosen Mark took a breath that rattled in his chest. "I fucked up and I lied and everyone is disappointed." Like a rug being pulled out Mark felt like he was free falling backwards, the little ground he had fought for was crumbling. " _I get it._ "

"That's not. Mark that’s not what I meant.” Johnny’s voice was soft, the annoyance no longer present. Johnny sounded just as sad and terrified as Mark had felt during the long hours of the night.

"I stopped taking visitors because I was sick of being glared at or talked down to." Mark's shoulders hunched, head bowing down farther until his chin rested against his chest. "Even my parents acted like this was something I did for attention." The first wave of tears leaked past his scrunched eyes to fall on to the ruined paper. "I didn't mean to fall in love or get sick or almost die. I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to. I-" The words died in Mark's throat.

"I know." Mark bodily flinched away from the hold Haechan drew him into. "I'm sorry none of us pressed when you got sick. I saw...we all saw. We just...I didn't know how to ask." Mark cried harder into Haechan's shoulder. "That's a lie. I was afraid of the answer."

_We all saw._

Everyone had known. Somehow that made it equal parts better and worse. On one hand, they knew and did as much as Mark did to stop it. On the other hand, they knew and didn’t care enough to ask. Mark didn’t have it in him to be angry anymore, the anger had burned out weeks ago. The Wasting was something that _he_ should have addressed when he saw the first signs and not waited for someone to notice. 

Still. A small selfish part of him wanted people to notice. Wanted people to see he was sick and make him get help. Doctor Yang had told him that it was natural to want people to show they cared by pushing. Mark had been desperate for someone, anyone to _look_ at him that when no one did he had taken it as another rejection.

Or maybe his friends just all secretly wanted him to die. Maybe they hated him for this. The hundred and one Maybes swirled around Mark’s head.

"E'ryone 'ates me." Mark managed to hiccup past his tears. 

"Mark, no one hates you." Johnny's voice came from the side. The warm hand between his shoulder blades melted out some of the tension. A long arm slipped around his waist to hold him and Johnny’s cheek rested on his spine. “I promise. No one hates you.”

“No ‘ne cared. I was s-so scared. And you k-knew.” Just like telling Haechan he loved him, when Mark forced the words out it felt like lancing a wound. “And then you were all so _mad_. I’m still _so scared_ and everyone hates me.”

"We are scared too. And hurt." Johnny pressed against him a little firmer. "You were dying and didn't tell anyone.” Mark didn’t argue. As ugly and painful as it was, it was the truth. “I keep asking myself why I didn’t go to you sooner. Why did I wait so long to check on you after you started skipping classes.” To Mark’s fresh horror Johnny was crying. “I promised I would look after you and I didn’t. Mark I was so scared I let you die.”

Mark let himself cry in their arms. Let them cry in his in return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say hi to us on Tumblr!  
> https://bang-channies.tumblr.com/
> 
> hey kids we got a twitter:  
> S - https://twitter.com/hardstansonly  
> K - https://twitter.com/BChannies


	3. Kintsugi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kintsugi - (Japanese) "to repair with gold"; the art of repairing pottery with gold lacquer and understand the piece is more beautiful for having been broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl the ending feels a little abrupt and its 300% bc if i didn't cut it there would be a whole other chapter and i've already extended it out more than i intended. i hope everyone still enjoys it ;--; -S

**Week 12**

It didn't feel like three months had already passed when Mark got the packet to begin the discharge process. It felt like it had both been only a week and also like it had been ten years since he had woken up in the hospital. Considering the costs that had added up on the bottom on the sheet Mark was glad it was only three months. As it stood he'd be paying on this for the next three lifetimes.

Debt aside, Mark had also gained a better understanding of himself. Long talks with not only Doctor Yang but also Moonbyul - when the nurse found time to visit - helped him learn better coping mechanisms. It was fine and well to write his feelings down on paper but he still had to deal with them. Moonbyul in particular was always on him to not repress his emotions even if they were inconvenient to others. 

Mark wondered what his new normal would be after he left the next morning. The last few weeks had been like clockwork. Each day started with the battery of usual tests, a dwindling number of pills, therapy, and then free time. Meals and snacks were sprinkled in, though Mark only ever ate the hospital's breakfast. Without fail Lucas would arrive at lunch time with two boxes of food and the makeup homework of the day. Always home-made, always tasting better than they had any right to. Since Lucas was enrolled in the same credit recovery program as Mark it gave Lucas the ability to come up every day for a visit. 

Once a day, usually before bed, Mark would call his parents to talk since neither of them could afford another trip out to South Korea. Once Mark had gotten well enough to move to the rehabilitation ward he pushed for his parents to return home. In truth, it was for the best for all of them. They were still working to understand one another and talking on the phone made it easier. Mark knew his parents still loved him, their hurt and fear clearly showing that but the anxiety when he accepted a call still made his chest hurt. Of all the people he could run from, Mark didn’t want to have to run from his parents. Even if they yelled at each other sometimes.

On Tuesday and Thursdays, Johnny, and Haechan would come up to visit. Sometimes the Dreamies would come with them, other times it was just them. With fall semester nearly at a close, Mark knew the others were swamped. Most of them were buried under research projects, finals, and various club activities or jobs. Taeyong was still out of the country, the last leg of his dance tour ending the following week and Mark was looking forward to the dancer kicking his ass. Best Friend Days (as Lucas had dubbed them) were the only days that Lucas would only come up to drop food and homework before leaving, promising to be back the next day. 

Out of curiosity Mark had asked why he never stayed Lucas told him that they needed to work on things between them. Communication, rebuilding trust, and sorting out whatever else that needed to be sorted by they couldn’t do that if Lucas was there. All of them, Mark included, would use him as a shield to avoid talking about things that needed to be talked about.

_And_ , Lucas had said with his big grin _I don’t want to share my time with anyone else._ Which left both of them bright pink and shoving each other playfully.

Lucas' insistence giving them space to heal fed the small part of Mark never wanted them to meet. He liked having a friend that was separate from Johnny and the Dreamies. Lucas was just his friend without any other caveats. Mark could tell Lucas things and not worry that Lucas would feel conflicted or rat him out. Even talking with Doctor Yang it was nice to have someone to vent to on his bad days. 

Despite that some spectacularly shitty things have flown out of his mouth, Lucas took his moods in stride. Sometimes letting the words roll like water off his back, and other times he would push and push and push until whatever pocket of hurt that Mark was in finally drained of its poison. Even on the days where the heaviness was so overwhelming that Mark couldn’t get himself out of bed, Lucas would come sit in his room in companionable silence. 

Not that Mark didn’t appreciate the staff, he did but it was nice to have someone that wasn't being paid to care come visit. Someone who had thought he was worth being around.

Lucas always told him that he was worth the risk. That no matter how bad his mood got or what he slung out in bouts of irrational anger, Lucas understood. Lucas would let him wear himself out even when he probably shouldn’t have. Mark would have punched someone for saying half the shit that he spit. When the anger finally gave way to grief, he would hold his hand while he cried. And finally, when Mark would apologize Lucas would forgive him. They wouldn’t act like nothing happened, but Lucas had lived through the emotional rollercoaster too. Lucas understood and promised that during his bouts of anger Sicheng _had_ punched him. 

It was a dangerous thing though. Every day Mark slipped more and more away from 'you are my close friend' territory and into 'I think about you in the shower' territory. Which scared him. It's how he had gotten here in the first place. The catch 22 of keeping his feelings bottled up to eat at him or telling Lucas only to lose him was the newest of his panic attack triggers.

Every day they took a walk around the hospital's rooftop garden. Sometimes, if Mark was feeling low he would hold Lucas' hand. Or let himself be pulled into a hug that left him feeling equal parts warm and guilty. Especially when Lucas would shy away afterwards.

_Do you miss it? Loving him?_

The question Lucas had asked Mark stuck in his head. He didn't miss loving Haechan but now, he wondered if Lucas missed loving him. Did Lucas' feelings die when the last flower had been plucked from his lungs or could they return?

Did he love Lucas?

Truthfully, he was too scared to ask himself.

*

Mark had gotten used to his routine. Sitting with Lucas doing make up homework for hours at a time. Doing workshops to fill the rest of the time. He should have known that something was going to happen. Things never stayed comfortable for too long.

“I have to go back to China for a little while.” Lucas spoke into the silence as they sat at the little plastic table. Mark tried to smile but he doubted it worked. Not that Lucas noticed, the older man was focused on something out the window. “I’m taking the winter semester off to spend time with the family.”

“That’s good.” Mark watched Lucas pensively. He still didn't know if he loved Lucas and Mark suspected Lucas didn’t love him. It was for the best. Neither of them were really in a position to be attempting relationships with anyone, least of all each other. Least of all with Mark who still found himself thinking about Haechan from time to time. “You’ve been in Korea a few years right? I’m sure they miss you.”

“Hm.” Lucas tapped the pen against the page a few times, eyes still not meeting his. It was clear he wanted to say something so Mark waited. Lucas frowned, sighed, then finally shook his head. “Nevermind.”

“Did I do something?” Perhaps it was narcissistic, but Mark didn't fully believe Lucas was leaving because of family. Maybe he had simply gotten tired of carrying Mark's emotional baggage.

Mark was certainly sick of carrying it.

Lucas snorted, “You, like usual, did nothing wrong.” Still, no smile appeared. “You always think stuff is your fault and it’s not.” Mark squirmed a bit under Lucas’ gaze. Lucas had a way of making him feel naked, exposed. Like a peeled fruit.

Maybe he was writing too much poetry.

“I’m going to miss you.” Mark glanced up at the clock. Lucas would have to leave soon and Mark would be stuck watching the walls until visiting hours resumed the next day. “When do you leave?”

“In the morning.” Lucas gnawed on his bottom lip, wide shoulders slumped inward.

“Oh.” Mark’s heart felt heavy. Hands retreating back to his lap Mark played with the edges of his sleeve. Mark wanted to be happy, wanted to tell Lucas to fly home and not look back but he couldn’t form words that didn’t taste like a lie.

“I’m sorry it’s so last minute.” The look of shame deepened on Lucas’ face. The Chinese man shrunk a little more, hands in his own lap no doubt also fiddling with fabric. Somewhere there was a joke about shared habits but Mark couldn’t think of it. Not when he was losing his friend. “I didn’t know how to tell you.” 

Unable to take the sudden awkwardness between them, Mark stood with his arms open. “Come here.” To his surprise Lucas stood immediately, long arms wrapping him up to hold Mark to his chest. 

Swaying a little, Mark couldn’t help but sink into it more. Like Johnny, Lucas had a few inches on Mark but it worked out in his favor. Mark tucked his face against Lucas’ neck, their hearts seeming to hammer in time with one another. If Lucas’ didn’t call him on the tears that were starting to sink into the collar of his soft grey sweater then Mark wouldn’t call him on the tears sinking into Mark’s shirt.

“I leave the ward tomorrow.” A soft _I know_ was mumbled into his hair. “I was...I wanted...are you coming back?” The lack of answer threatened to devastate him.

***

Nearly a year to the day since Mark had left the Wasting ward he was sitting in a coffee shop when an unexpected face sat across the table from him. With so many people filtering in and out of the little patio area Mark would have missed their arrival if the sunlight hadn’t caught a zipper from a familiar leather jacket. The leather jacket was of course accompanied by the shiny black helmet, big soft lips with the ghost of a smile hanging at the corners, and a set of brown doe eyes hiding behind a curtain of black hair..

“I missed you.” The words spilled out but Mark wasn’t embarrassed about them. They were the truth, even during the few times he had been angry his new friend had disappeared off the face of the planet.

Sicheng, never as unwillingly as he pretended, would give Mark vague updates on Lucas while the other was in China. Never anything too personal, except for the slip up about Lucas having a girlfriend then a few months later not having one - something that hurt more than Mark would ever admit to. Only once Mark had asked him to pass along a message, just a simple happy birthday, but it made the Chinese man smile in approval. 

A small self indulgent part of himself liked to pretend that Sicheng was passing along updates of him to Lucas.

“Congrats on graduating.” Lucas shifted a little, hair still hiding his face some. Lucas' hands were folded on the table but Mark could tell how stressed he was from the bitten nails. “Honors, even after everything you went through. You’re really amazing.”

“Want to get dinner?” Reaching across the table Mark put his hand over Lucas’ folded ones. Automatically, Lucas turned his hands up to return the hold like they had done during the weeks and weeks Mark had been in the hospital. 

A tint of pink started to bloom across Lucas’ face. “You sure?”

Standing from his seat Mark moved across the table, heart throbbing heavy in his chest. Maybe...maybe he could have this? Could love someone who loved him back? He didn’t want to think about how Lucas was hurt from loving him before. Or how much it hurt when Lucas left. Doctor Yang had harped on him for ages about ‘living in the now’ and taking risks instead of letting the What Ifs drown him.

The scrape of the chair was a little jarring but Mark barely heard it. “I left because I fell in love with you again.” Lucas opened his arms and Mark sat on his lap. Lucas falling in love with him again was every nightmare scenario for Mark until he realized that he loved Lucas back. “I was scared.”

“I understand.” Tucking his face into Lucas’ neck, Mark breathed in the smell of cologne and wind. The closeness and the sunshine reminded him of the days they’d spent on the rooftop garden. Only now they could have this without rightfully concerned medical staff worrying they were hobbling each other’s progress.

“I fell in love but no flowers grew.” Lucas ducked his head down so their faces were close. Close enough that Mark could smell the green tea Lucas had drank when his breath fanned down. “What does that mean Mark?”

“I love you too.” Playing with the small hairs at the nape of Lucas’ neck Mark waited to be rejected. To be told that Lucas no longer felt that way about him or that he wasn’t worth the risk like Lucas had said all those months ago.

It was foolish really. To think that Lucas would want to take this big of a risk, with him of all people. But Mark desperately hoped Lucas would. That the Chinese man saw something in him worth a second blind jump. 

Just as Mark started to think he fucked up Lucas pulled back, hands cradling Mark's jaw and brushed their lips together. Nothing deep, just a soft, tentative press that left Mark breathless. 

In a whisper just as soft as the kiss Lucas murmured, “kiss me again.” The hands around his hips tightened. “Please, god. Mark kiss me again.”

Lips quirked into a smile, Mark shifted a bit, scarred hands coming up to thread into the black hair to kiss him just a bit more firm. Slipping his tongue into Lucas’ mouth Mark swallowed the small noise that tried to crawl out. Even in public with the very real threat of someone calling the cops on them Mark pressed himself more into Lucas’ body. Tried to get closer, and maybe he was at half chub just from kissing but the press of a bulge against his thigh was enough to know the interest was mutual.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Mark nearly groaned at Haechan’s voice cutting in. “That’s my best friend you’re mackin on there. Mark did he at least buy you dinner?” Turning to glare Mark lifted his arm to make a shooing motion. “Wait.”

“Hyuk.”

“HOLY SHIT!” Haechan put his hand on Mark’s face and pushed him back to get a better look. “Is this _Lucas_?” Haechan released Mark and dragged the chair over even as Lucas blushed bright pink but nodded. “Oh no, you’re cute.” That made Lucas blush bright pink. “I’m glad you’re back. Mark hasn’t shut up about you in ages.”

“I hate you. SO much.” Mark blushed bright pink too. “This is a violation of the best friend code.”

“You’re already sucking face so I think he knows you’re into him.” Haechan grinned. “Thanks for taking care of Mark while he was in rehab. It means the world to us that he wasn’t alone.” Mark watched Lucas shy away from the praise, even as the arm around his waist tightened. “I’m Donghyuk but everyone calls me Haechan.”

“We are busy Hyuk.” Mark knew it would be impossible to make his best friend leave even though he _really_ wanted Haechan to leave. So instead, Mark chose the Ignore option and resumed kissing Lucas. When Haechan kicked the chair Mark kicked his back with a heavy glare. “Fuck off.”

“Oh no.” Haechan kicked their chair a little harder, jostling the both of them. “It’s movie night with the other Dreamies and we’re interviewing Ten to see if he’s good enough for our JohnYongie.”

“Johnny is going to kill you for that terrible name.” Mark kissed Lucas again, reveling in the way his heart thumped in his chest. No sadness or anxiety weighing him down, just the electric _zip_ of excitement skittering along his nerve endings. “Want to come meet my friends? And we’ll go to dinner afterwards if they haven’t chased you off?”

“I always wanted to be a Dreamie.” With another soft kiss the blush returned to Mark’s cheeks. “Besides, I have to impress your best friend right?"

"Good answer." Haechan grinned texting on his phone. "I have to call Johnny to tell him the news. No running off."

Mark waited until Haechan was a few steps away before kissing Lucas again. He had spent the better part of a year. Thinking about it. Wondering if Lucas' lips were as soft as they looked and how'd they feel against his. It also made him remember how many hours he had spent thinking about _other_ parts of Lucas. Distinctly NOT soft parts and how’d they feel in him. Or around him. Mark wasn’t picky. 

"I have to confess." Lucas whispered when they broke to catch their breath. "I have a bit of an in."

"Oh yeah?" Mark arched an eyebrow. Kissing the corner of his mouth Mark hummed, "How's that?"

"Ten is a buddy of mine." Mark couldn't stop the snort, or the laugh that followed, but Lucas pressed a kiss to his cheek. It seemed like all the Chinese boys in their orbit knew it each other and Mark hoped that it took some of the pressure off of Lucas to impress. "And Sicheng finally said yes to Yuta."

"For a date or the marriage proposal?"

"Both, probably." Lucas continued to nosed at his cheek like a cat. "Do you really want to date me?" The question was so quiet Mark nearly missed it.

"Yes." To the side Haechan was watching them but smiling. His best friend had been trying to set Mark up for ages with people. After attempting it twice Mark stopped going on the blind dates and accepted he had a thing for boys he couldn’t have. "I was hoping you would come back." Playing with the soft hairs at the back of Lucas' neck again, Mark waited.

"I tried." Lucas pressed closer, big brown eyes closed as they shared a moment of closeness that wasn’t full of heat. "I tried not to love you. I think I even succeeded for a little bit." Mark understood. He had tried not to love Lucas either. Neither of them had been ready. "When that failed I thought if I left…"

"It's okay Lucas. I understand, I know." Brushing his thumbs over the warm cheekbones Mark glanced back at Haechan who had his back turned. "Do...do you want to get out of here?" Lucas looked at Haechan too, a big lopsided grin forming. "Let's go."

Abandoning his half drank coffee with a tip for the waitress tucked under, Mark and Lucas slipped away. Despite sitting at an outside table, the patio of the coffee shop was fenced in meaning they had to go back through the shop to get to the sidewalk. Taking Lucas’ hand in his, Mark pulled them through the crowd of people waiting. 

As soon as they hit open pavement Lucas pointed to the corner parking lot. When they both ran past the gated section Mark could hear Haechan yelling between laughs. It wasn't like Mark to ditch someone, he and Haechan _had_ planned to have coffee before movie night but he figured that they would let this slide. They'd all been hyping Mark to make a move when Lucas came back after all. 

Even with Haechan clearly not giving chase they didn't stop until they reached Lucas' bike. Mark should have figured it was a sports bike. Sleek and fast and very _Lucas_ when he stopped to think about it.

"Here." Lucas removed his jacket, leather held out to Mark. "Want a ride?"

"More than you know." The words slipped out making him blush bright red. Mark was grateful for the cool fall day that allowed him to wear jeans and converse. Not that Mark wore anything else, but the idea of getting onto a bike -speed or otherwise- in shorts and flip flops would have been infinitely more daunting. There was also the fact that Mark was wearing Lucas' jacket. The sun warmed leather warmed him in more than one way."Shut up and get on. Haechan ran track in school, he's letting us get a head start."

Truthfully climbing on to the black and red Ducati with _Cherry Bomb_ scrawled in the side was terrifying even with proper clothing. The barely existent passenger seat was realistically too small for Mark’s ass but it also meant when Lucas took off Mark got to wrap his arms around him. The buzz of the engine vibrated up his thighs directly to where his pelvis was pressed against Lucas’ ass. Each fluid turn threatened to make his stomach upend from anxiety but Mark trusted Lucas to get them to wherever they were going safely.

He just also happened to have his eyes closed most of the way.

In his pocket Mark's phone buzzed just once. It was likely Haechan giving him grief for ditching him at the coffee shop and a promise to never let Mark live it down. Or worse, doing so in the group chat so they'd really never let him live it down. Either way, Mark was doomed when this perfect bubble inevitably popped.

The few times Mark managed to peel his eyes open, was at stop lights or when the traffic got too heavy and they had to slow down. Lucas navigated the city for a bit, slowly leading them closer and closer to the university. Clearly, he was waiting for Mark to decide what to do. Two blocks away from his place they were caught at a red light. With a deep breath, Mark scraped together all his courage and gave Lucas directions to his apartment.

Mark had intended to order pizza - a lie. Maybe watch a movie and catch up - another lie. 

Instead of being a proper host, when they kicked their shoes off Mark pushed at his luck one last time. Mark’s lips still tingled with the memory of Lucas kissing him. Mark was more than reasonably sure that this was what they both wanted. Lacing their fingers together, Mark pulled Lucas down for a kiss before he led them to his bedroom.

Mark took a little pride in that his room wasn’t too messy. The bed was unmade, blanket half shoved off from when he kicked them off. His hamper was half full, mostly baggy clothes from a lazy weekend. His guitar was balanced precariously on top of the dresser next to stacks of now outdated textbooks and notepads. Some crumpled sticky notes and papers had spilled out of the trash can, all of them with bits of shitty poetry.

At the edge of his bed Mark turned to look at Lucas, teeth sunk so far into his bottom lip he could taste a bit of blood. All of his courage was slipping out of his fingers like mist.

"Mark." Lucas' voice was rough. The hand in his tightened but made no move to let go.

"We don't have to do anything." Mark promised quietly. Mark kicked himself internally for moving too fast. For not taking this slow and likely chasing off Lucas before he even had a chance to have him. "I just...I don't know."

"Mark, we climb in that bed and we're gonna fuck." Heat clawed up his spine and Mark nearly fainted from the blood dropping directly to his dick. “Is...do you? Mark I want to fuck you.”

Fumbling a minute Mark pulled out a well used bottle of lube and the all but unused box of condoms from the drawer of the night stand. Despite the blush creeping back up Mark turned back to Lucas putting the ball back in his court.

Lucas managed a small, "Thank god." Before Mark dragged Lucas down to his level, fingers locking into the soft black hair.

This time when Lucas kissed him it wasn't soft or shy. Their bodies fell together like puzzle pieces and when he tugged off Lucas' shirt, Mark took a moment to duck down and kiss the long thin scar down Lucas' sternum. He didn't quite have a matching one, but Mark did have a scar on his chest from the removal of the heart eater mushroom. 

"Let me see you Mark." Lucas nipped at the shell of his ear making Mark shake. "Please."

Mark hadn't been naked with another person since he had been cured. He had never dated much before, the number of boyfriends could be counted on one hand. Then the whole mess with being in love with Haechan and the Wasting that followed. With the help of Doctor Yang, Mark was finally able to wear short-sleeved shirts again. Granted he always had a hoodie on hand for when people stared, but it was progress. 

Now Lucas was asking to see his scars and it made him panic a bit. A small part of his brain tried to convince itself that Lucas would reject him. But if Lucas was able to trust Mark the scar on his chest, then Mark could trust Lucas with his.

"Lay on the bed for me." Nodding a little Mark did as asked, kicking off his pants and boxers but unable to part with his shirt. His reward was Lucas settling between his thighs and Mark had to remind himself that this was really happening. That this wasn't a delusion or a wet dream. 

Lucas took the edge of his shirt, pushed it up just a bit and kissed along his skin. Then a bite more, until Lucas coaxed it off. Instead of flinching away his partner? Lover? _Boyfriend_? kissed the scar on his sternum. Kissed the ones that dotted his shoulders and elbows. Lucas drowned every part of himself that Mark hated in soft touches. The brush of lips tickled where they trailed along his ribs, over his stomach and hip bones.

Mark's breath hitched a bit when the kisses led down to his dick. He was dangerously close to losing his mind. “F-fuck. Lucas… _ahh_ ” Lucas bit into his thighs, kissed along the base of his dick, and dragged the hot flat of his tongue up the underside until Mark bucked up.

Lips poised inches above the head, Lucas smirked. The fringe of hair now served to make Lucas look extra...extra…Mark didn’t even have words left. "I'm gonna take care of you baby."

It had been ages since Mark got a blow job. Longer than that by someone who Mark didn't pretend was Haechan. But as Lucas took him down Mark couldn't think about anyone else he'd ever want in his bed. Not that he could think to begin with. Lucas' mouth was on his dick and a long slick finger was in his ass and Mark was sure he died.

Lucas' body all but engulfed his own when Lucas finally slid into him and Mark loved it. Loved how the arm around his waist held Mark in place while Lucas fucked him hard and deep. Each roll of their hips drove him higher and higher until Mark could do little more than cling to the wide shoulders. 

“I thought about you. All the time, in every way. Mark, I’d leave and have to take a shower because of how _bad_ I wanted to fuck you agaisnt that shitty plastic table.” The image had Mark moaning, dick somehow getting harder. Between his brazeness at the cafe and the fact that he would have let Lucas fuck him stupid in the middle of the rec hall made Mark re-evaluate if he had a exhibiton kink. “Did you think about me like this?”

"Every time I took a shower after you wore those stupid - _ahh_ \- leather pants." Mark leaned up to suck a hickey into Lucas' neck. A mark from him that he doubted Lucas would mind carrying. 

"I'm gonna…" Lucas paused, teeth sinking into Mark's neck making Mark's hips jerk up. "I'm gonna make up for the year I was gone. I promise." Mark keened at another bite. Then all but screamed at a third, deeper bite. "Cum for me, Mark. C'mon baby." Between them, Lucas' hand moved from his waist to stroke him. Panting, Mark clenched down dragging a low moan from both of them. " _God_ , Mark. That's right baby, cum on my dick."

Nails digging into Lucas' shoulder, Mark crumbled. Head thrown back into the pillows, he panted Lucas' name between broken moans. Using their position to his advantage, Lucas licked and bit in what Mark was convinced would be a collar of hickies across his throat. During all of it, Lucas continued to stroke him, using his release as extra lube to milk every bit of pleasure from Marl's body. Just as Mark began to gasp from overstimulation Lucas pressed in deep, dick throbbing as the condom filled.

***

Much, much later when Mark was able to form a coherent thought in his head he ordered them pizza. Instead of sitting on the shitty futon that doubled as a couch, Mark changed the sheets in his bed and they curled up on his bed. Lucas told him about his year in China. The girlfriend he had for all of two months because his mom insisted he try dating a girl to get over his feelings. 

"She was too good for me anyway." Lucas kissed Mark's hair. "I set her up with a friend of mine. They've been really happy together."

"Yeah?" Mark curled in closer, kissing along Lucas' jaw.

"Yeah. They're getting married next spring." Lucas bit his lip for a moment, then asked quietly, "wanna be my date for the wedding?"

"I-" Mark shifted up to lean on his elbow. His free hand resting over where the borrowed shirt covered the surgery scar. "Your family has to _hate_ me."

"Not anymore." Lucas brushed a bit of hair from his face. "Now they're curious to meet the boy I can't seem to unfall in love with." Mark stared a little dumbly even when Lucas raised his head to kiss him. "You just gotta protect me from your friends when they inevitably try to kill me for running off with you."

Already the corners of his mouth were curling upwards. "Thought you had an in."

"Sicheng and Ten would absolutely let me be sacrificed to keep favor." Mark had to tuck his face into Lucas' neck to muffle his laugh.

"Do you mean it?" Mark murmured quietly when their giggling faded. "Are you going to stay?"

"Me and Ten got a place down the road. It was Sicheng’s place but he’s moving in with Yuta at the end of the month. He used his pout to get the landlord to sign it to Ten and I." Lucas dipped a hand under the hem of Mark's shirt to run a knuckle down the warm skin. 

Mark knew the building, he had been to Sicheng’s place a few times with Yuta. From door to door it took maybe fifteen minutes, less if Mark jogged there. Lucas would be within walking distance and Mark’s world got a little brighter. 

"I didn't think you'd want me back in your life so I planned to woo you. Take you on some really fancy dates. Walk in the park and hold your hand." Lucas smiled into his hair. "But you always manage to knock me off my feet."

"I think somewhere around six months of you being gone I realized I had fallen in love with you." Mark sighed softly. "Doctor Yang and Doctor Wei weren't surprised but definitely not pleased." Kissing above the scar again Mark fought down the surge of anxiety. "I didn't...I couldn't ask Sicheng for your number. Or to ask to give you mine. Not after you got sick because of me." The knuckles brushing against his spine stopped a moment then uncurled so that Lucas' hand was splayed out and drawing him closer. "Haechan didn't love me, and you...it was too much to even think that you'd risk getting sick again."

Lucas was quiet for a long time. On his bed they laid, bodies tangled together. Mark was a little afraid of the can of worms he'd opened - one they should have probably talked about _before_ they fucked. 

Lucas had said that Mark upended him, it was nothing compared to how Lucas affected _him_. One smile was enough to ditch his best friend, a handful of kisses had him spreading his legs. Mark would die before admitting he was every bit of anal rententive as his friends said he was, but they were right. Lucas made him want to throw all of his rigid habits out the window.

"Thank you." Lucas brushed a kiss to his forehead. "Thank you for giving me the space I needed." Curling tighter against Lucas, he waited. "Sicheng told me about you. I was afraid to stay but I was still worried. I didn't become your friend to make you love me. You know that right? That was never a ploy." 

"I know Lucas." The sheer relief that rolled off his boyfriend had Mark holding him tighter. "Do I get to still have fancy dates?"

"And the dates in the park too." Mark squirmed up to kiss a warm cheek, then his lips. "But first, a nap." Lucas shifted them so he was spooned up behind Mark, a hand slipped in his shirt resting on Mark's stomach. Lucas placed a few soft kisses behind his ear murmuring, "I love you Mark Lee."

Mark snuggled back against the long line of Lucas' body, content for the first time in ages. "I love you too, Lucas Wong."

Fin.

_Haechan: if you didn't get laid after ditching me Lucas is banished back to china_  
_Mark: SILENCE DEMON_  
_Johnny: oh so you did get laid. that's my boy_  
_Taeyong: our little markie is all grown up_  
_Mark: i hate all of you so goddamn much_  
_Haechan: but did you?_  
_Mark: :) fuck off :)_  
_Taeyong: :(_  
_Mark: that is cheating how dare you. dont you have your own man to snag?_  
_Johnny: :)_  
_Taeyong: :))_  
_Mark: i hate this whole family_  
_Haechan: lucky for you movie night has been moved to tomorrow. if you dont show we're coming to you :D_  
_Mark: begone demons i have a dick to ride_  
_Mark: but also it's Ong-Bak night tomorrow so we'll be there_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say hi to us on Tumblr!  
> https://bang-channies.tumblr.com/
> 
> hey kids we got a twitter:  
> S - https://twitter.com/hardstansonly  
> K - https://twitter.com/BChannies

**Author's Note:**

> Say hi to us on Tumblr!  
> https://bang-channies.tumblr.com/
> 
> hey kids we got a twitter:  
> S - https://twitter.com/hardstansonly  
> K - https://twitter.com/BChannies


End file.
